


Abegail Spanx

by Domme_sama



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Collars, Exhibitionism, F/M, Nudism, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domme_sama/pseuds/Domme_sama
Summary: Based off of a friend of mine's exploits. I've changed the name in the title for her own protection. Though knowing her she'd probably be glad to know she helped people get off 😉If you're interested in seeing her irl: check her outhttps://onlyfans.com/greeniris4252?rec=30112498
Kudos: 1





	Abegail Spanx

You take a deep breath and open the door. Your eyes dart from side to side, quickly scanning the street to see if there's anyone out this late in the day.  
You almost wish there were, but alas; you take your first step outside.  
You're wearing a zippered up pencil skirt barely long enough to cover your ass and a hook-fastened crop top that may as well be a dish-rag with the amount of cleavage it exposes.  
But you know it doesn't matter, because you've been instructed to wear nothing underneath. No bra, no underwear, nothing to offer and shred of dignity or modesty once your play begins.  
In the excitement you've forgotten about the most important things you'll be wearing. In your hand is the first item: a black blindfold which allows no visibility, and the second is firmly fitted around your neck: a dog collar with a chain attached. A chain that when your eyes follow it lead to the orchestrator of this event.  
Your master.  
You are his to command and to do with as he pleases tonight, and tonight all he pleases is for you to be reduced to sadly fucked mess by the time you're back inside. Everything goes black as the blindfold is tightly wrapped around your eyes. As you've been conditioned to do, you instinctively hold your arms behind your back. You won't need them for much of what you're in for tonight.  
You feel the tug of the collar, your clear instruction to continue walking past your front doorway and onto the sidewalk.  
Each step feels like an eternity as you continue onward, only stopping to quickly change direction. The suspense is killing you as the cold night air reaches up underneath your skirt, the only thing slowing down the arousal from dripping down your legs. You notice your crop top begins to tighten as your nipples stiffen to become visible peaks within the fabric.  
Even now you’re ashamed, though you know right now is only the beginning. More steps, you wonder how much time has passed. 5 minutes? 10 minutes? It’s impossible to tell. You suddenly are stopped by the hand of your master right before you think you’ll snap.

“This will be far out enough” he quietly claims.

You stand still, waiting for what’s in store for you. You feel his touch grade your back and it almost makes you jump.  
Effortlessly, the hooks on your top are undone as it falls to the floor, leaving your bare breasts exposed to the world. Your face reddens and your heart begins racing. You feel the tug of the collar once more, and so you begin to walk.

The sounds of the night are magnified ten fold as you walk. Cars in the distance feel as though they’re passing by. Winds feel like the breath of an audience you pray isn’t really there. Even your own heartbeat betrays you as it feels as though tectonic plates have shifted within your body. Your breathing becomes heavy and you quickly attempt to stifle it to no avail. Any more noise you make will only increase your chances of being noticed, a fact your master will surely take advantage of. Your feet feel like lead as you continue through the night.  
You feel concrete turn to grass beneath your feet and you realize you’ve made it to the woods outside your neighborhood. A realization that only soothes for a moment before you feel the zipper on your skirt slowly begin to lower as the garment becomes loose. Your ass is to big for it to fall off naturally, and you come to terms with what is expected of you.  
As your master’s plaything, you are to assist in your own degradation and suffering. You wiggle your hips and tighten your legs together, allowing the last piece of clothing on your body to be slowly taken from you by gravity. You feel the fabric across the top of your feet as your lower your head.  
A shiver travels down your spine as the air hits all over your. It crawls up yours thighs like a spider and invades between your legs. Your already shamefully sleek lips only spread the chill throughout your core like wildfire, making your body convulse.  
The leash tugs at you once again. Once again you feel the infallible call to parade yourself through the wilderness like a prisoner.  
In many ways you are a prisoner. A prisoner to your master’s instructions, yes, but so a prisoner within your own mind. The barriers you’ve placed within your own mind are slowly chipped away at, revealing a raw and palpable desire of which can turn you into whatever it is wished for you to be. Your master defines you, creates you, and most of all compels you. Your body and mind are the clay of which he creates what he decides you are to become.  
You travel through the woods, leaves and twigs crunching beneath your feet, adding to the horrible thoughts you have of what or who might be near you. You are once again stopped, but you have no clothes to remove. 

“Hands above your head” 

You hear these words and comply.  
You feel a familiar tug at the back of your neck as you go along with the force. You stop as against your back you feel the course texture of bark. Your wrists become bound by what feels like the unforgiving leather belt you’ve become all too familiar with, though this application of it has not been so common. You now have two reasons of why you cannot move. The first being that you physically can’t due to the restraints, and the second because you want to not be able to. 

“Spread your legs” you hear in a low mumble, made intentional in an attempt to have you make a mistake and subsequently be punished for it. Nevertheless, you of course comply.

“What are you?” your master asks. 

You know this. You know what he is expecting you to say, and you know that you are going to say it. 

“I am a slut, sir” you whisper

A vice-like grip grabs you by the throat momentarily, just long enough for him to udder 1 word.

“Louder”

“I am a slut, sir” you say, making sure he can hear you. It’s not him you’re meant to be getting the attention of.

A smack, just hard enough to cause the fear inside you to well. 

“Louder” he says again in a more serious tone.

“I am a slut, sir” you raise your voice against your better judgement.

You feel a sharp pain against your hardened nipple. A pain that is only made to linger as your left breast is pulled at, jerking ever so slightly while remaining near it’s limit.

“Louder whore” 

You pause for only a moment, blatantly ignoring the implications of what you’re about to do. 

“I AM A SLUT, SIR!!” you yell as loudly as you can, knowing you’re not far enough out of earshot that someone living near the forest couldn’t hear you. 

His hand let’s go if your nipple, the sudden release stinging almost as much as the punishment itself.  
You stand there in shame.  
You’d have fallen to your knees if not for your restraints. The hypothetical threat having now become possible, your head stirs with the idea of someone only buildings away from you coming into the woods and seeing you in your current state. Black tears stained from your makeup run down your face as the intensity inside you reaches it’s boiling point. You lose yourself in your emotions until the sharp click of a switch meets your ears, followed immediately by an intense buzzing sound.

“If that’s the case, you’ll be treated like one”

You can’t see him, but you know your master is smiling now, and nothing you’ve been through tonight would compare to how badly you’d feel if that wasn’t the case.


End file.
